


tea cup

by marinacourage



Category: MAGNUM (Korea Band), TREASURE (Korea Band), YG Treasure Box (TV)
Genre: Art Inspired, Historical AU, M/M, NSFW, but soft, king mashiho, lord junkyu, we all live for long haired junkyu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 08:57:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marinacourage/pseuds/marinacourage
Summary: a quiet afternoon at the royal castle between the silver moon and a blinding sun





	tea cup

the maids know not to disturb when the sliding doors are firmly closed and only two soft voices can be heard behind them.

meticulously served tea is getting cold on a low wooden table, the room being filled with it's warm aroma and bright chirping of spring birds nesting by the roof of a castle. 

junkyu stops reading, sighs and folds the delicate paper carefully, sliding it into the silk sleeve of his gisaeng. he gets too bored by those political games too fast, and even if the young king tries to keep up with all the scheming of his alleys and enemies alike, western lord knows a weary look when he sees one. he stands up gracefully, minding his seemingly endless robes, and joins the king by the window, gently touching a tense spot between his shoulder blades. 

— your majesty, those petty troubles must not be of your concern, truly. you have a whole army of advisors to take care of nonessential cases like that.

— i know that, junkyu, but to have knowledge is to have power, so i need to be aware of every smallest thing that happens under this sky or i will lose my crown very soon, — the young king turns around swiftly and meets the other's gase with his own, tired but tender, — and if it ever happens we won't be able to meet at such a wonderful place anymore, my moon. 

junkyu laughs carelessly, titling his head back, leaving the smooth white column of his neck exposed. sun hits it and makes it shine like silver dust.

— oh, now that would've been unfortunate.

— i must say what is indeed unfortunate is your hight, flower, — the king says humourously and puts his firm hands above the cool fabric of the lord's complex gown. even through numerous layers junkyu can feel the heat of that touch and trembles.

— well, i'm afraid there's not much i can do about it, your highness.

— actually, lord junkyu, you have several ways to help with it.

— and what can they be, young king?

next thing he knows his majesty is whispering into his ear so low and commanding his legs are about to give out. 

— well, you can either kneel or lie down for me. 

he can almost feel the taste of royal skin on the tip of his tongue and he knows exactly where he wants it to be and how much pleasure he wants it to give. maybe later, when he'll look back at his words, he will be ashamed of his own boldness, but now his body hurts with heat and want and he is desperate to give it all to the man beside him.

— for what i want to give you, my king, — he whispers back, — i'm afraid you will need to lie down first. will you do this for me, your majesty? do you trust me?

there is no answer but a soft smile and a tug on his hand, and for junkyu it's perfectly enough.

they are being so quiet going down on a hard wooden floor warmed by the spring sunlight, touching hands, eyes searching. junkyu ever so slowly lands on his majesty's strong thighs and starts moving, steadying himself by holding onto the kings shoulders. 

the only sounds that are heard are the rustling of their clothes, hard breathing and the bird's song. junkyu can't stop thinking about how there must be guards standing right outside the paper doors and how he could care less about them, how much he wants to whine and cry and beg the king to give him more of that delicious friction, more of his godlike body and, maybe, a honey drop of his glorious soul too.

but for all the flushed cheeks and responsiveness young king is being so painfully careful with his hands and lips it hurts. 

— you are so quiet, your highness. don't you enjoy it? don't you want to touch me?

— would've you given me permission to if i asked?

— oh, your highness, — junkyu grins childishly and comes closer to the face that he came to adore so much, — do you really need my permission? didn't you tell me that this castle and everything in it belongs to you? — junkyu takes his hand and slowly, slowly guides it under his gown so it takes it's place right upon his thumping heart, right where it should always be, — doesn't that mean i belong to you too, mashiho-sama?

the king moves so quickly that junkyu fails to register when his gase meets the ceiling, but he feels the solid ground under his back and a pleasantly heavy weight all above him and relaxes completely. the sound of a wet kiss, open mouthed and burning, is like a thunder breaking out in his head. he closes his eyes.

broken tea cups spill cold tea across the royal floors.

**Author's Note:**

> english is not my first language so spare me
> 
> you can also find me and the art that i was inspired by on twitter @ screamaryia
> 
> i wish you a wonderful day! :>


End file.
